


Blurs of Confusion

by flintxwood



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dyslexia, Established Relationship, M/M, someone needs to hug marcus part 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 00:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9854759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flintxwood/pseuds/flintxwood
Summary: Marcus had always struggled in school. And at reading. And at spelling. And telling his left from his right.Needless to say, he knew he was an idiot.





	

Sat in the library, Marcus read over the Muggle Studies text book for probably the fifth time but he was still having trouble reading the text. The words were shaking in front of him, feeling like they were grouping together. He was trying to summarise what he read on a piece of parchment but he was still having trouble trying to translate what the text book was saying. 

Despite having read the paragraph multiple times, all he’d gotten down as ‘Mugls travl too far plases by a flying mashin’. Not the best summary and not enough for him to actually pass the class. He knew he’d misspelled most of what he’d written but he could worry about it later. His hand writing was messy enough anyway. 

This wasn’t unique to him. He’d always had trouble reading, and even spelling. He always felt like a huge idiot because of it. It reminded him of when he had to learn new spells and he struggled at sounding out the spells properly and remembering them. He didn’t even want to begin to think about how much he struggled with actually trying to remember to spell them. That definitely contributed to failing his N.E.W.Ts, even though he only got three.

Why did he have to be so stupid?

His attention drifted and he glanced at Oliver who had already written about ten inches of notes and Weasley had written what looked like almost thirty from the same textbook chapter. He looked at his one pathetic sentence and tried to stop himself from groaning. How were they taking the same class but they were doing so much better than him?

Worse, Weasley glanced up and his eyes fell on his sheet of parchment and his lips pursed slightly before going back to his work. He tried reading the text again, he might as well try reading it more, maybe it’d stick this time. 

Weasley cleared his throat and closed his text book. “I’m done,” he said and rolled up his parchment. 

“I’m about halfway,” Oliver shrugged. Oliver didn’t ask how far he was. His boyfriend knew he wasn’t the fastest reader and when Weasley left he pushed his notes to him. He smiled at him gratefully and copied down what Oliver had written. He repeated in his mind the flying machine was called a plane. It was something that was frequently used and replaced boats. Simple enough to remember. 

He scribbled it down quickly, his hand writing was awful but Oliver’s notes were going to help him out way more than the text book. He was lucky Oliver had two classes with him, the other being Charms, but he was on his own in Divination. Oliver – and Weasley – felt the class was too ridiculous and Marcus mostly took it as a joke but it was one of the few classes he got a high enough grade in to take for his N.E.W.Ts. 

When Oliver finished the chapter, he pushed the rest of his notes to Marcus. He wasn’t really taking in the notes but writing them down would help. He hoped something would stick for class so he could actually pass this time. 

…

“What grade did you get on the Charms essay?” Weasley asked, eyes not leaving the large History of Magic textbook that sat in his lap as he, Marcus, and Oliver sat in the courtyards grass. Marcus’s eyes didn’t leave the copy of Qudditch Weekly in Oliver’s lap, he knew Weasley was just taking a chance to gloat about getting an O, which he proudly proclaimed before Oliver could even answer.

“That’s cool, Perce,” Olvier said. “I got an E,” he shrugged. 

“A,” he grunted out, just to satisfy the git. He’d never liked Weasley but he tolerated him simply for being Oliver’s friend. He considered himself good at telling what people were like and he just didn’t get a good vibe from Weasley. 

That and he’d previously gotten P’s so this was a step up, proof to Weasley that he wasn’t too much of an idiot. He was getting spells straight but he still struggled with non-verbal spells. The words got even more lost in his head than they did when he tried to pronounce them. Theory was still difficult but if he kept up the extra effort he hopefully pass this time. If he wanted to get onto Montrose, he needed to actually pass school. They would definitely not accept drop outs (he’d checked). 

Weasley didn’t say anything which he was happy about. He was getting fatigued from reading anyway so he laid down on the grass, tossing the idea of reading away. 

Oliver looked down at him and smiled, shaking his head and turned back to the magazine. He tuned out of their conversation, just letting himself rest for a few minutes. He tried blocking out the noise of screaming first years as they ran around the courtyard, absolutely fucking grating. 

He felt Oliver’s hand in his hair, absentmindedly running his fingers through his hair as he read. Marcus smiled, it didn’t stop his annoyance at the first years but it calmed him down a little. 

He felt Oliver flick his forehead. “Marc, you listening?”

“What?” he asked, sitting up. 

“I said, I was thinking we could go to Charms club, that might help us out for later exams,” Weasley said, not even trying to not roll his eyes. 

Fucking Charms. He was bad enough at Charms and he honestly didn’t want to do it anymore than he had to. 

“Nah, it’ll probably conflict with practice,” he shrugged. 

Weasley frowned at him. “You sure?” he asked. “It should help.”

“I just don’t felt the need to.” The truth was that he knew if he tried to learn more spells he would get even more confused. When he still had to take Transfiguration he had trouble distinguishing which spells were for what class, causing him to get a P in Transfiguration for his O.W.Ls and barely scraping an E for Charms. Charms wasn’t easy for him but he couldn’t do well in most of his classes anyway. 

Weasley looked at him for a moment. “You mean, ‘feel’?” 

Merlin, he did it again. He messed up speaking and didn’t even realise it. “Yeah,” he grumbled, remembering why he barely spoke. He never realised when he messed up speaking and it always took someone to awkwardly correct him, staring at him like he was an idiot. 

Except, that’s exactly what he was. 

“I think I’ll do it,” Oliver said. “I like Charms anyway.”

Marcus shrugged. “Your choice, I don’t care.”

“Sure you don’t?”

He nodded, laying back down on the grass.

…

“Flint! There’s a bludger coming at your left from behind!”

He quickly moved to the side to dodge it, only to feel… the bludger hit him in the head.

He mixed up his left and right again, great.

“I said, left!” Bole called as Marcus rubbed the sore spot. 

He scowled and flew to Warrington who had the quaffle under his arm, ignoring Bole’s comment of “doesn’t he know right from left?” Because no, he didn’t. He always mixed it up. 

“Do your job and made sure bludgers don’t hit anyone!” he shouted at them. 

“You mean, ‘make’!” Bole called back, an amused smile on his face. 

“That’s what I said!” he snapped and no one denied it. They knew better than to talk back to Marcus when he was angry. 

Warrington tossed the quaffle to him and he viciously threw the quaffle to the hoops, it going right passed Miles. 

“Not so rough, mate,” he said. “It’s just practice.”

“You want to win the cup?” he snapped. No one dared to challenge that, not even a teasing comment about Oliver. At this point they knew better than that. 

They practiced for another half hour before deciding to finish. They were going to get a good amount of practice before the game against Gryffindor, especially since they narrowly won against Ravenclaw. 

It was kind of a nice dusk so, to really procrastinate homework, he rested his back against a brick wall right next to an open area of the castle. It was a nice quiet spot where he could really just allow himself to be relaxed for a few moments. 

“Look, I’m not saying he’s an idiot-“

“But you are.”

Those were Weasley and Oliver’s voices. He held his breath, trying to listen to what they were saying. 

“He messes up simple words, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know right from left. Hell, have you seen how he can barely spell?” Weasley continued. “Not something someone with half a brain should have an issue with.”

“Percy, would you stop?” Oliver barked at him. “I know, okay, I know all that shit. Doesn’t mean you should degrade him for it.”

“I’m not,” Weasley argued. “But seriously, he only got three O.W.Ls and he failed his N.E.W.Ts.”

“Not everyone can get straight O’s,” Oliver argued. 

“But he’s been getting a lot of P’s, hasn’t he? Did he get any T’s on his O.W.Ls?”

He bit the inside of his cheek. Because he did get a T in History of Magic. 

“I didn’t ask, that shit doesn’t matter to me,” Oliver argued. 

“Well, considering how he does in classes I’m sure he got at least one. Maybe a few.”

His teeth sunk into his bottom lip, hard enough that he actually drew blood. He only got one but he got plenty of D’s too. 

“Goes with that face of his.”

He bit his palm, he didn’t want to alert them of his presence. He wanted to hear exactly what Weasley thought of him. 

“Don’t fucking talk about him like that!” Oliver growled at him. “If you have an issue that I’m with him you can just say so.”

“Put your wand away, mate,” Weasley said carefully. 

“You are such a piece of shit you know that?” Oliver continued. “I don’t think I’ve ever met such an inconsiderate git before.”

“Look, it’s not about you being gay-“

“You sure?”

“But he’s seriously probably the most unintelligent git I know. Don’t know why you put up with it.”

“Maybe it’s not me ‘putting up with it’? Maybe I really like him? Maybe I’m not on some superior high horse that I think people that don’t get all O’s are beneath me. Not everyone is good at school!”

“He literally messes up simple sentences. It’s like he was dropped as a baby.”

“You know what?” Oliver growled. “How about you don’t talk to me?”

He heard loud footsteps getting softer and softer, and Weasley’s voice following. He took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes. At least he now knew Oliver was definitely on his side. 

…

“Where’s Weasley?” he asked when Oliver walked up to him outside Charms.

He shrugged. “He’s being a bit of a prat,” he said. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.” 

“How was Charms club?” he asked, changing the subject. 

He shrugged. “Okay,” he replied. “It’s really just learning Charms we don’t in class.”

Marcus nodded. He was really happy he didn’t join now. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself as he tried to pronounce spells. Or get them mixed up with the ones in the curriculum. 

“How was practice?” Oliver asked. 

He smiled. “Enough that we’re ready to beat your arses in the final.”

Oliver laughed and poked his ribs. “You sure ‘bout that?” he teased.

Marcus batted his hand away and smiled at him. He remembered Montague asking him how they could date while on different teams but truthfully, they’d always been competitive. In a way their attempts at one upping of the other was really just them trying to impress the other. 

“We’ll find out in a few weeks,” he winked.

…

Even after school ended, Marcus still struggled with things he really shouldn’t. He was able to scrape getting all A’s in his N.E.W.Ts which was a huge relief. It was enough to satisfy Montrose along with his Quidditch skills. Oliver got onto Puddlemere so they didn’t really ever stop being rivals. That didn’t bother either of them. Truthfully, not being rivals would be more weird than playing against each other. When they were both bumped up to starting positons and the press got hold of what their relationships was, a lot of people were sure they would go easy on each other. They got a good laugh over how surprised people were over how competitive they were. The press definitely had a field day when they did get married. 

When they eventually retired, they moved to Hogsmeade, buying a shop to sell Quidditch memorabilia, living in the flat above. Oliver however, had decided to take Madam Hooch’s position at Hogwarts when she retired. But he always flew back to the shop when the day was over. 

He’d closed up the shop and had just started when Oliver got home that night. 

“Hey,” he said, tossing some sheets of parchment he had onto the kitchen table and pecked his cheek. 

“Hey,” he said, taking the chance to peck his lips. “What you got there?”

“Some work stuff,” he shrugged. “They’re bringing in something Muggles have.”

He cocked his head to the side. “What exactly?”

“Apparently decades ago Muggles discovered things called learning disabilities, so they’re implementing something to help students with them,” he shrugged. “The parchment detail what they are. You can read for yourself, I’ll watch the stove.”

He stepped away from the stove and picked up the parchment. The words moved in front of him and he squinted down at it, reading it carefully. Half of them didn’t make sense, until he stopped at something called ‘dyslexia’.

Those with dyslexia have at least ten of the following: 

Has trouble summarising what they’ve read  
  
Yes…  
  
Frequently needs to reread sentences to properly comprehend what they’ve read  
  
Yes…  
  
Misspeaks, misuses, or mispronounces words without realizing it  
  
Yes…  
  
Has trouble telling left from right

Has poor balance or is very athletic

Has trouble spelling

Poor hand writing

Easily frustrated

Low self esteem

Good at judging personality of others

Easily distracted or annoyed by noises and other things in environment.

Fatigue or becomes bored quickly while reading  


There was more but he couldn’t read anymore, his tears were blurring his vision. 

“Marcus?” Oliver asked, getting his attention. “What’s wrong?”

He wasn’t stupid. 

Other people were like him. 

“I think I have dyslexia.” 

Oliver took the piece of parchment from him and read it over. “Damn,” he muttered. “That would explain it.”

“I thought I was just an idiot,” he mumbled, wiping his tears away. 

“I mean, I knew you struggled but I didn’t think on this level,” Oliver said, frowning. “I guess that’s why they’re implementing it. So kids like this… like you don’t have to struggle.”

Yeah, maybe if he got the help he needed he would’ve done better in school, maybe gotten a few more O.W.Ls and better grades. 

It was a relief to know he wasn’t stupid at least.


End file.
